by Max Turner
“The Changeling doesn’t believe in the prophecy,” I said.
Mr. Entwistle scratched at the whiskers on his chin. “Does anyone know what the Changeling believes?”
“He told you the prophecy was just a tool of the prophets. A lie. You believed him.”
“That means nothing,” he said.
“I thought you could tell when a man was telling the truth.”
“The Changeling is no ordinary man.”
Vlad eyed us both. “Perhaps we should talk to Baoh.”
“I’m not going anywhere with you,” I said. “And I have no wish to endanger Baoh by drawing attention to him.”
“Endanger Baoh,” Mr. Entwistle said, snickering. “Not likely. I remember that old crackpot. He’s as tough as a Grape-Nut.”
“Are we talking about the same guy who visits you on the Dream Road?” Charlie asked. “The prophet?”
“That quack is no prophet,” Vlad scoffed. “He can’t tell you any more about the future than your average horoscope.”
“What about the Baptist?” Charlie asked.
“The Changeling and the Baptist are the same person,” I said.
Vlad’s expression flared. “Who told you that?”
“Baoh told me. He said the Baptist was just a disguise the Changeling used to find vampires who were in hiding. Once he knew where they were, he’d send in the Horsemen.”
“How would Baoh know that?” Luna asked.
“Good question.”
“Who is Baoh, anyway?” Vincent asked. “You know you all say his name a bit differently?”
“Mandarin words are confusing,” Mr. Entwistle said. “They mean something a bit different if you change your inflection. The proper pronunciation is Baoh. It means precious, like a jewel. Something like that. But you can also pronounce it Baoh.” He paused, so we could appreciate the difference. I didn’t catch one. “In that case, it means nurse or governess, someone who protects others.”
“Wrong on both counts,” Vlad said. “It’s pronounced Baoh. It means violent and cruel.”
Everyone looked at him.
“It’s true,” he insisted. “It can also mean to suddenly injure someone.”
“I can’t really hear a difference,” I said.
Vlad smiled. “How good is your Mandarin?”
I think he knew the answer.
“I still have trouble picking up the subtle nuances in people’s inflections,” he said. “Context is critical.”
“So the meaning of his name changes. You don’t find that suggestive?” Luna asked.
“No,” Vlad said. “Mandarin words are like that.” He paused, thinking. “But if we consider those different meanings together: precious, someone who looks after others, but who can be violent and suddenly injure. Those all describe the Changeling. Perfectly, in fact.”
“So you’re saying it’s Baoh?” Charlie asked him.
“No, it cannot be. He was a friend to Ophelia for five centuries.”
“Didn’t he also help Ophelia at her trial?” Charlie said.
Vlad’s eyes narrowed. “Yes. Strange that the New Order would allow it. And let him escape the courtroom.”
“After helping me on the Dream Road,” I added.
Vlad’s voice came alive. “Could it really be him? He has convinced the world that he’s little more than a harmless coot. In five centuries he hasn’t shown any obvious interest in the politics of our kind. A perfect front. The last vampire on earth I would have suspected. Baoh …
“We must get to the bottom of this. I am going to visit the good prophet. If he really is the Changeling, it is time to put an end to things.”
CHAPTER 59
SUMMONS
MR. ENTWISTLE LOOKED at Vlad with an expression of doubt on his face, one eyebrow much higher than its neighbour. “Sorry for tempering your enthusiasm with a dose of reality, but if Baoh is the Changeling, then he’s way out of our league. You might just as well try to paint the sun black.”
“I want answers,” Vlad said. “I’m not going to spend the rest of my life wandering about with one eye over my shoulder waiting for him to strike. It is time to end this.”
“How will you even find him?” John asked. “He disappears for years at a time.”
“Aren’t you his second in command?” Charlie said to Mr. Entwistle. “Put that cowl back on. We could set a trap—”
“That won’t work,” I said. “Baoh brought me to Mr. Entwistle’s corpse after it had burned in the sun. He’ll know we’re on the same side now.”
“This is foolishness,” John said to Vlad. “If Baoh is the Changeling, and you press him, how will you protect yourself from his poison? It is fatal, instantly. There is no antidote.”
Vlad reached into a pocket on his belt and pulled out a stainless steel vial. “In that you are mistaken, John. I have created one. Our only dose is in this tube.”
He held it up for us to see. A silent war between hope and doubt started inside me. I wanted his words to be true, but I felt I couldn’t trust anything he said. None of my friends seemed surprised by his revelation. I guess they must have known.
“Why haven’t you used it on Ophelia?” I asked.
“It is too risky,” Vlad said. “I might raise her up only to see her killed again. And if both of us died, who could make more? No, I am keeping this as insurance against the Changeling. I’ll make more once he has been dealt with.”
“You could bring Ophelia back and then make more.”
“Where?” he asked. “And with what? I am out of materials and have no place to work.”
Should I have been surprised? He knew that if we believed he could make more, we’d protect him until the sky fell in hopes that he might eventually restore Ophelia. But before I could voice any further objections, Vincent started to growl. Min was approaching.
“It’s okay,” I said. “She’s cool.”
I felt Luna grow rigid beside me. I should have picked a better adjective.
Min stopped a good ten paces away. More vampires appeared from the shadows. Several jumped down from the roof. The air was very tense, punctuated by the guttural rumble still emanating from Vincent’s throat.
“It’s fine,” I said. “They’re here to help.”
I poked Charlie gently on the chest. “Recognize anyone?”
Judging from the colour of his cheeks, he did.
“She saved me from Famine after Vlad carted you away. Would have been hard to do if you’d taken her head off.”
“Point taken,” he said.
Min stepped to one side and waved for someone to come forward. Hassan, the bounty hunter, was escorting a figure towards us, the barrel of an automatic pressed tight to the man’s neck. He had a moustache shaped like two crescent moons, the same colour as his tawny hair, which was streaked with white over the left side.
“We found him in the woods beside an empty grave,” Min said. “He asked to speak to you.”
“Is it my cousin?” Vlad asked Vincent.
Vincent’s nostrils flared. “Yup. It’s Istvan.”
I nodded to Min. She, Hassan and the others moved back so that Istvan stood alone.
“I am glad you are all well,” he said. A smile crept up his cheeks when he saw John. “It is good to see you are your old self again. Or rather, your new self again.” Then he looked at Vlad and me. “The Changeling would like to see you both. Come. Miklos is waiting in the helicopter.”
He turned, expecting us to follow. Vlad shifted beside him. There was no hostility or surprise in his face, no evidence of mistrust or anger.
“You might have saved me a lot of bother if you’d just set this meeting up at the beginning.”
Istvan laughed. “You are mistaken, cousin, if you think I have that kind of influence.”
Both men turned back when it was obvious I wasn’t following. I was still holding Luna’s hand. We’d been separated too many times already.
“You cannot safely refuse this req
uest, Zachariah,” Istvan said. “I am sorry. You must obey.”
I looked at Luna. She looked at Charlie. He looked at Mr. Entwistle.
“We will all go,” John said. “I have questions of my own that need answering.”
Istvan frowned. “The Changeling is a follower of the old ways, John. He does not approve of child vampires or those he deems unclean. If you bring the shape-changer and these young ones to his temple, they will not come out alive.”
“It is a parley, Istvan,” John said. “The rules are ancient and inviolable. It is forbidden for him to harm us.”
“These vampires are too young to be protected by any law, old or new. And Vincent is a lycanthrope. Our laws do not pertain to him.”
“Perhaps it is time to re-examine those laws,” John said.
“Perhaps … but the Changeling might be more set in his ways than you would wish him to be.”
Mr. Entwistle looked at Istvan with an expression that surprised me. Had I not known him, I would have thought he was afraid. “I will not take his mark again.”
“And I have no wish to take it even once,” Istvan replied.
“You never took his mark?”
Istvan pulled back his hair. He always wore it loose, so I’d never seen his forehead clearly. It was pristine. So was his right hand. “The Changeling never asked me. It was what allowed me to play the role I needed to play.”
Vlad smiled at that.
“You’re worse than Benedict Arnold,” Luna said. “You have no loyalty to anyone.”
“I am loyal to a cause,” Istvan said. “And I love Vlad and Ophelia both. Never doubt that. Her loss touches us all. If you feel betrayed, trust that time will exonerate me. But …” He gestured for us to get moving. “The war is now over. It is time to negotiate the peace.”
CHAPTER 60
TERMS
I’D BEEN TO the temple before—with Ophelia, the night she introduced me to Baoh on the Dream Road. The sun had been shining. The light and warmth of it had created a surreal quality that was now missing in the cold dark of the mountaintop.
Tibet. The Roof of the World.
Our breath froze and disappeared in the night air. Istvan led us to the temple doors and rang a small gong that was sitting on the stone floor. One door swung inward with a creak.
“This is a holy place,” Istvan said. “Your weapons must be left outside.”
Vlad set the Dragon Blade beside the door.
“Are you for real?” Charlie asked.
“Yup,” John answered. “It is forbidden to bring weapons to a parley.”
Charlie dropped his utility belt, then started shedding knives, guns and explosives. So did Luna. By the time they were finished, there was a small arsenal sitting on the paving stones.
Luna tapped the handle of my katana. “Oh, right,” I said, unbelting it quickly.
She glanced at John. “What about you?”
He reached into his overcoat and pulled out a flask. “This isn’t a weapon,” he said, unscrewing the cap. “It’s a crutch.”
He took a haul of whisky, then readjusted the top hat on his head. It and his other belongings had been in the Changeling’s safekeeping, unearthed in the Warsaw Caves when his body was exhumed and delivered by Istvan. John now looked exactly as I remembered him.
Istvan led us through the temple doors. Inside, rows of fluttering candles sent shadows dancing along the timbers of the ceiling. Waxy smoke mixed with the pleasant aroma of incense. A small fire was burning in a square hole set in the floor. It was mostly coals now. Just beyond, near a small shrine to the Buddha, stood Baoh. He had his arms folded across his waist, his hands hidden by the long, flowing sleeves of his orange habit. He nodded to Istvan. There was no stiffness in his movements now. I guess the time for acting was over.
“Had I known I’d be talking to an apparition, I would have stayed home,” Vlad said.
“You have no home to go to, Vladislav. And a man does not reach my age by placing himself in danger unnecessarily, particularly when he invites three vampires to parley, and six show up.”
Vlad chuckled quietly, but I sensed his unease. I looked at Baoh more closely. His body seemed real until I noticed the floor beneath him. Wood deforms when you stand on it. The difference is slight, but anyone with vampire eyes could see the boards under his feet carried no weight. We were talking to a ghost image.
Baoh’s eyeless orbits changed. They were shrouded in darkness, then his eyelids snapped opened, revealing the milky irises of the Changeling. “Time is precious,” he said, “so I will not waste yours with pleasantries. These are my terms. Vlad, you will be induced into a state of undeath. All of your properties, monetary assets and titles will be transferred to me. Your body will be taken to Snagov, which will remain in the possession of Miklos and his family. A reward for his loyalty, however misplaced.”
Vlad’s face began to redden. His jaw clenched while the Changeling continued.
“Istvan, you will join Vlad in undeath. I will also take possession of your assets, deeds and titles. I understand this was less than you were promised, but, given where your true allegiance resides, I am disinclined to trust you. And I am not pleased to find my home putrefied by the presence of one who is unclean.” Baoh’s eyes shifted to Vincent. “You should not have brought this animal here. It is as thoughtless as it is insulting.”
Istvan started to speak, but Baoh cut him off.
“Zachariah, you have never posed a threat to me, and although you are young by any standard, no sane person would accuse you of mental instability, the only justification we have for terminating the young. You will be allowed to leave, but only after we deal with your friends.”
I stared into the murky depths of his eyes to see if they offered some clue as to what he intended, but they were like lenses too thick to see through.
“It is convention in the vampire world that one does not pass the pathogen to another person until one’s progenitor is dead. Vlad broke this tradition when he made you. Ophelia was still alive. I overlooked this because of how much I admired your father and because of a long-dead prophecy that made me curious about the outcome of your infection. However, I am now staring at a family of four vampires, two of whom spring directly from you. Certainly the Chosen One must set a better example. As Luna was the last in your line to be infected, she must join Vlad in undeath.”
Luna was beside me. I could smell her fear.
“What about Vincent?” I asked.
“He is unclean. He is to be terminated, immediately.”
“Baoh,” Vlad whispered, his teeth clamped firmly together. “You are a fool if you think we will agree to these terms. This meeting is over.” He turned to go.
“I think not,” Baoh said.
“It is forbidden to harm guests at a parley,” Mr. Entwistle said.
“You are correct, John. But you violated my terms when you entered this temple, as only Istvan, Vlad and Zachary were invited. And weapons were forbidden.” He looked at Charlie. A who, me? look came over my friend’s face. “In your left boot, Charlie, there is a knife.”
Charlie looked down. His face turned red. “That was an accident!”
“Arguably, your entire life has been an accident! It changes nothing. Luna, you must prepare yourself for undeath. I will give you a moment to say goodbye. Do not be dismayed. Vlad and Istvan will confirm this—in a state of undeath you will not suffer or age. Your body will not corrupt. In time, you can be raised up again.”
As he finished speaking, his image began to fade. Smoke from the incense burner swirled through him, then he disappeared completely.
“Watch the shadows,” Mr. Entwistle said. He moved towards the centre of the room. We all formed a circle, staring outwards.
“What did he mean, unclean?” Vincent asked.
“He means you forgot your deodorant, Vin,” Charlie said. He pulled out the incriminating boot knife. “Should I get our weapons? They’re right outside the door.”
Mr. Entwistle’s face was grim. “I fear this won’t end well for you.”
“No. I knew that already. But a leader must be willing to make sacrifices.”
I didn’t doubt he’d sacrifice all of us to save his skin. But this didn’t have to end badly for everyone.
“This is crazy,” I said. “Vlad and I can stay here with Istvan and figure this out. The rest of you should head for the hills.”
“It is too late for that, Zachariah,” Istvan said. “The Changeling has offered us his terms and we have rejected them. He won’t let us go.”
“Even the Changeling can’t be in two places at once. If he’s here dealing with us, he can’t be chasing the others.”
“Forget that,” Charlie said. “We’re staying. End of story.”
“You would never leave us behind,” Luna said. “Don’t expect us to do that to you.”
“He’s coming,” said John.
Vlad seemed to sense this as well. His eyes were fixed on the temple doors. He spoke to Vincent without turning. “You know what to do?”
“Yeah,” Vinny answered. One side of his upper lip rose, exposing a long canine. He was coiled up like an adder, his fingers loose, claws bared.
The double doors opened. A young-looking vampire was standing just outside the threshold, dressed as a Shaolin monk. His head was shaved and his eyebrows were dark and manicured.
“It is time,” he said. Then he stepped into the room.
CHAPTER 61
APPARITIONS
A YOUNG VERSION of the prophet stood before us, looking as he had when he walked the earth over twelve hundred years ago, seven hundred years before Columbus set sail, five hundred years before Genghis Khan sat a horse, three hundred years before the first Christian Crusade, when Charlemagne ruled in France and Vikings first set their sights on the churches and monasteries of Britain.
“Will you agree to my terms?” Baoh asked. “Or will we do this the hard way?”
“The hard way it is,” Vlad said.
